


Above Ground

by panchostokes (badwolfrun)



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Angst, Episode: s05e24-25 Grave Danger, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 00:04:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21127484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfrun/pseuds/panchostokes
Summary: Months after Grave Danger (sometime after the events of Daddy's Little Girl), Grissom thinks there's a bird trapped in the break room.





	Above Ground

Grissom rubbed weary eyes and heaved a sigh as heavy as the stack of reports he had stayed late to finish. With his jacket hanging over his shoulder, he turned the lights and left his office and did one last walk around the lab. He was the last one to leave for the weekend.

Or so he thought.

As he approached the darkened break room, he heard a loud _thump _against the glass window, followed by the rapid fluttering of the blinds. At first he thought somehow a bird had gotten into the lab and trapped in the room, but as he cautiously peeked in the room, he saw no bird, but rather, a long, lanky man sleeping on the couch.

Though sleeping was perhaps not the best descriptor, as Nick was restless, hyperventilating, thrashing, _convulsing_.

“Let me out, please…Let me out, let me out,” he was muttering. 

“Nicky?” Grissom asked softly, opening the door and turning the lights on.

Big mistake.

“NO!” Nick screamed, his legs kicked the arm of the chair, shaking fingers fumbled for the gun attached to his hip–

“Whoa, Nicky! Nick!” Grissom shouted, he wrestled the gun out of Nick’s hands, tossed it behind him. Nick fought Grissom’s hands before he realized what they were, clutched one of his hands to his chest, holding Grissom’s, and the other hand planted firmly on his forearm. His eyes snapped open, frantic, Grissom could tell by the somehow darker-darkness of his eyes that he was not seeing what was truly in front of him, but rather a green-lit glass mirror.

“It’s okay, Nicky, I’m here,” Grissom told him, gripped Nick’s shoulder tightly, but shook him gently. 

“G-Grissom?” Nick’s voice cracked. 

“Yeah, buddy, I’m right here.”

The haze in Nick’s eyes dissipated, he gulped as he caught up to his heavy breathing, threw Grissom’s hands off of his chest, but kept the one on his arm.

He sat up, glancing around the room with confusion.

“Musta…fell asleep…” he panted. 

“Looks like it.”

“Been a while, since…” he chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head feverishly. 

“I know,” Grissom pat him on the shoulder in comfort, but then Nick shook it off. 

“It’s stupid. Everyone…Everyone that was part of it is _dead…_” he muttered, seemingly more to himself than his boss.

“Not everyone. Not you,” Grissom offered. 

“Sometimes it feels that way,” Nick admitted, before wiping his face with both hands. Still shaking, Grissom observed. 

Nick stood up, began to pace.

“It’s over, Grissom. It’s _over._” 

“Yes, it is.”

“I’m above ground.”

“Yes, you are.”

“But I’m…” Nick’s face screwed up, a sheet of red bloomed over the pale complexion, his eyes blurred with exhaustion. “I’m not over it.”

“No, you’re not.” 

Grissom walked over, planted his hands on Nick’s shoulders, forced him to meet Grissom’s eyes.

“And that’s okay.” 

Nick buried his head into Grissom’s shoulder, hooked his arms underneath Grissom’s armpits and wrapped his hands around Grissom’s back. Grissom held the back of Nick’s head and his back firm against his, grounded him as Nick struggled to compose himself in the clumsy embrace. He was reminded of a time he had a night terror as a child, and the similar way he wrapped himself around his mother. 

“You will get through this, Nicky, my boy. I know you will,” Grissom reassured him.

“Promise?” Nick mumbled, rubbing an eye as he tore himself away, his cheeks blushed with obvious embarrassment, 

_“I promise_.”


End file.
